Two Quantum Superpositions Walk into a Bar
by TheEccentricScientist
Summary: You'd think, what with the omniscience, at least one of them would have seen it. In which Elizabeth meets someone else with a flexible relationship with the time-space continuum, and receives some advice. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR "BIOSHOCK INFINITE" AND "UNDERTALE".
1. Chapter 1

As stated in the summary- **major spoilers for "Bioshock Infinite" and "Undertale" here. If you haven't played the games, then please, _please_ , play them before reading this** **.** It would be terrible to have them ruined for you by my scribblings. Now, with the warning out of the way, on with the fic.

It was done.

It had taken a horribly long time, or so it seemed to Elizabeth- it felt like she'd been fighting against her father's thrashing limbs for an age, as his instincts tried frantically to sabotage his sacrifice. But now, his movements had slowed, and the stream of bubbles gushing from his lips had sputtered out. It was finished.

Elizabeth looked up from Booker's icy white face as his body began to drift away from her, carried away by the current. It was a beautiful day, she thought in a distant sort of way- the sky was a deep, clear blue, with barely a wisp of cloud to break its infinite stretch, and the Sun made verdant green of the grass on the bank look almost luminous. Its rays were reflected by the river in dazzling arcs, transforming the stretch of water into shining crystal- aside from the patch where the witnesses of the baptism still stood, trapped by Elizabeth's steely grip on reality. There, the light warped and stretched, leaving the surface of the liquid dull and scummy.  
She knew that sooner or later, she'd have to relinquish her death-grip on the time-space continuum and bring the frozen group of worshippers downstream back to life, but for now she kept them motionless, until she could vanish from this timeline like her alternate selves were doing even now, rippling waves of non-existence spreading out across their little group and spiriting each iteration away. Elizabeth knew she wouldn't disappear like them, fading away to nothing as the paradox they'd just caused sank its teeth into their forms. She was the one whose Siphon had been destroyed: the regular laws of time and space had no hold on her. She had no need of a father, or even a mother- or at least, in the physical sense. However, as she tried to ignore the still white form floating down stream at the corner of her vision, she admitted to herself that Booker, in the short time they'd spent together, had created a vacuum in her life, a need for someone else she could rely on. He'd always been there for her when she needed it most- complaining and sarcastic and bitter, yes, but he'd never abandon her.

She gave a _huff_ of amusement, or at least as close to amusement as it was possible to get. She was the one with the power to make tears in the fabric of space-time, and yet he'd gone and made a great gap in her life that she knew was never going to be filled.

She felt like she was all gap now, really. Since the Siphon had been shattered by her past- and present-guardians, she'd known what she had to do for the sake of all the timelines, and had been trying to brace herself for it. She'd anticipated horror, fear, pain, grief. But she felt numb, as if Booker had managed to latch onto all her emotion and drag it out of her life along with him. She felt a faint pang of anxiety at her lack of emotion- was this a sign that she really was the strange, wild creature they'd believed her to be, her humanity spread so thinly across the plethora of Elizabeths in the multiverse that there was none left for her? However, the pang was brief, and faded into insignificance in the great vacuum that was left of her feelings. What was she going to-

"hey everyone, hey grillbz. i'll have a- darn it, wrong shortcut. never mind. sorry lady, i'll let you get on with… wait, what are you doing?"

Elizabeth turned when she heard the sound of a voice, and froze in terror at the figure that had appeared on the bank behind her.

Elizabeth had had a lot of books in her tower, and, Columbia being what it was, quite a few of them were on the topic of religion- particularly religion in the old-fashioned, bloodthirsty sense. She remembered reading something in one book about the "Grim Reaper", the skeletal angel of death that took the spirits of the departed to their final destination, be that Heaven or Hell. She didn't know where this creature would take Booker- she thought he deserved Heaven but she knew he wouldn't agree, and she wasn't really sure whether he believed in the place anyway- but she herself should have blinked out of existence a few minutes ago. Maybe the Reaper had arrived to discover why she was late for their appointment.

Or maybe he'd come to find out why she'd just sent her own father into death's embrace.  
Elizabeth felt a short stab of relief at the fear she felt coursing through her now- she wasn't the emotionless shell she'd believed herself to be. However, it was soon submerged when the figure began making its way towards her, watching her with its empty eye sockets.

If Elizabeth hadn't been panicking, she might have realised that the figure's eye sockets weren't empty- they were illuminated by two pinpricks of light, that darted about as if they were pupils. She might have also realised that the figure looked rather dissimilar to the engravings of the Reaper in her books- instead of looming impressively above her, the skeleton was rather short and squat, and it wore a blue hoodie and slippers in place of the midnight cowl that featured in so many of the depictions.

The figure's "pupils" darted around the scene, taking in the crowd of believers (who were now starting to move, albeit rather slowly- Elizabeth's hold on the timestream was slipping due to her rising anxiety), the corpse twisting and turning in the current, and the terrified young woman standing in the middle of it all, her face damp with river water and tears. The left socket flared blue momentarily, but the figure gave a shake of its head and the eerie glow died away. It reached out a hand towards the young woman, who started back from it like a stray colt.

"hey, easy there, kid. i'm not gonna hurt ya- or at least, not until you've told me what's going on here."

Elizabeth stared at the bony appendage, then back at its owner, unable to take in exactly what was happening. The skeleton gave an impatient sigh.

"come on, kid. i'll admit, this looks pretty bad, but someone once told me that everyone can be a good person if they try, and while i don't know if i believe that, i'd like to. so i'm not going to do anything to you until you've told me your side of the story."

Elizabeth continued to gaze in horror for a moment, before she managed to pull herself together and grasp the hand. To her bemusement and embarrassment, a long, drawn-out raspberry noise emanated from their clasped fingers, and he skeleton gave a short chuckle (though an attentive observer might have noticed that it seemed a little forced).

"the old whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand trick, eh? never fails. i'm sans, by the way. sans the skeleton."

Elizabeth frowned in confusion at the trick: she'd read about pranks, but had never been on the receiving end of one- and certainly not at such a serious moment. Nevertheless, she nodded her head politely at the introduction.

"My name's Elizabeth. I'm- pleased to meet you."

"nice. so, how about you explain what happened here?" Sans paused. "actually, do you mind if we go somewhere else first? i know somewhere we can get something to eat and we won't have to stand in a river while you talk." He winked. "Water-bout it?"

Elizabeth blinked at the pun, but nodded, and followed the figure as he turned from the stream. As he did so, he folded the fabric of space-time around him like a complex piece of origami, making a pathway for them. With a final murmur of "Goodbye" to the best of the three father figures she'd known, she stepped through the doorway.

"burger or fries?"

Elizabeth looked at her companion with puzzlement written across her features. She could infer from her surroundings- a cramped yet cosy bar- that the items Sans had listed were probably foodstuffs, but aside from that, she really had no clue what he was talking about.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"which do you want, kid?"  
"Sorry- I don't know what they are," she murmured apologetically, flushing. Part of her was aware that it was ridiculous to be flustered by her naivety, given what the skeleton had just witnessed her doing, but she was finding it hard enough to cling to her self-respect as it was. "Could you explain, please, Mr… Sans?"  
The skeleton's grin widened- an impressive feat, given that it already stretched from absence of ear to absence of ear. "heh. kid, i'm not 'mister' anything. call me sans, okay? as for the food, a burger's a grilled meat patty, and fries are a bit like popato chisps, but thicker."  
Elizabeth wondered briefly whether she should tell him that the latter description merely confused her further, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble.  
"I'll have the burger, please, M- Sans."

He flashed her a thumbs-up, and placed an order with the strange being behind the counter. It was roughly man-shaped, but was completely engulfed in flame, tongues of fire constantly flickering beneath his pristine clothing and roaring in a fiery column above his head. When they had first come in, Elizabeth had had to fight down the urge to scream at the top of her lungs, certain that Sans was in fact the Grim Reaper and they'd just entered Hell, but according to Sans the flames were just a part of Grillby, and weren't even hot to touch- that is, unless the bartender wished them to be. Elizabeth made a silent resolution to never get on the silent figure's bad side.

"so, kid, now that that's done, i feel like you owe me an explanation."  
Elizabeth started in her seat as she was jerked out of her thoughts, and gave a nod.  
"Right." She briefly pondered where to begin. The story was so convoluted and twisted that it was hard to pinpoint exactly where it had all started. When Lutece and Comstock first launched their aerial Eden into the sky? When Booker Dewitt accrued that fateful gambling debt? Or when she'd first torn a crackling grey rip in the fabric of the universe? She sighed, and pushed her hair out of her face.  
"Well, I suppose it all began when a man arrived at my tower-"

Sans listened intently to her as she recounted the events which led her to this bar. She was painfully aware that her storytelling abilities left something to be desired: she hadn't spent much time around other people, and so most of the mysteries of social interaction were a closed book to her. It didn't help that this particular story trekked its way through several timelines, paradoxes twining around one another into unfathomable knots as she tried to untangle the confusion. Their food arrived and grew cold, as she forced herself to relieve the rebellion, being captured, her time spent having her powers and her own free will leached off her inch by inch by her own father.

Finally, she reached the part where the Siphon was torn down, when she realised who her protector was and what she had to do.  
"I needed to make sure that Comstock was gone- and to do that- to do that, I needed to make sure Booker Dewitt was- gone as well."  
Elizabeth took a deep breath.  
"So, I found the point where the timelines diverged- the baptism- and- and I- I-"  
She tried to hold back her tears, and failed miserably. Everything that had happened to her over the past few months finally came crashing down on her, and she felt utterly crushed by its weight. Sans reached out a hand to her, but she flinched away, still somewhat horrified by the sight of his fleshless fingers.  
"Sorry!" She shouldn't have done that. He- whoever and whatever "he" was- had never done anything to her, and she was as bad as those bigots in Columbia if she judged him solely because of his appearance.

"hey kid, it's okay. i understand what you were trying to do. but, you do know it was impossible, right?"

Elizabeth blinked, frozen mid-sob.

"What?"

"well, kid, you and i know there's infinite universes. not just a huge number of universes, but _infinite_ universes. that means that somewhere, everything that can happen, _will_ happen. you can make different things happen in some universes, but no matter what you do, there'll always be an infinite number of universes out there where nothing changed."  
She looked up at him, a sliver of doubt threading round her thoughts.  
"What are you trying to say?"  
"look, i get it. i've tried to do similar things in the past. but whatever you try, there's always going to be some universes out there where your prophet is born, constructs his floating city, and takes you away from your father."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath as she realised what the skeleton was saying. She didn't want to believe him. She _refused_ to believe him. She found the point of divergence, and stopped the paths from ever forking. She'd stopped it!  
"That's not true. The multiverse is infinite, but it's made up of constants and variables. Once you find the constant you need, you can prevent it from ever happening in the first place."  
Sans gave a bitter laugh.  
"'constants'? kid, there are no constants. not in an infinite multiverse. if there were, it wouldn't be infinite."

Elizabeth was becoming angry now, if only to cover up the the fear welling up inside her that everything she'd done was for nothing.  
"There are! I can see them! I-"  
"'fraid not, kid." Elizabeth gritted her teeth at the sympathy in his tone. "some things are more likely to happen than others, but nothing happens in every single timeline. there's always gonna be some variance in events."  
She stared at him, eyes bright with tears and narrowed with rage.  
"So you're saying that my father's sacrifice was pointless?"  
The sparks of light in Sans' sockets narrowed thoughtfully."not exactly. the guy felt he needed to atone for what he'd done to you- what other-him had done to you as well. what you both did didn't stop the timelines when he goes on to become comstock, but it did grant him some kind of peace, and let him pay off his debt to you."  
"Well, how exactly can Comstock go on to become Comstock now, without being baptised?" Elizabeth folded her arms defiantly. She knew it was a childish gesture, but she didn't care any more. She was exhausted, and heart-broken, and full of uncertainties. She was owed some immaturity.  
Sans sighed. "He'll still get baptised, kid, just not there. there'll be bookers that didn't make it to the baptism that day because they sprained their ankle, or got cold feet, or something else. and some of those bookers will go on to have the baptism on another day, and become comstock. sorry, but that's the way it is."

Elizabeth's mind was now a torrent of fear and fury. According to this grinning skeleton, everything she'd done- everything Booker had done- had all been for nothing. They hadn't stopped anything, except for Booker's life. Columbia would still soar above the clouds, leaving a trail of bodies in its wake, and she'd still be there to take it back down again to rain fire onto the world below. Their journey had been meaningless, and the conclusion had been even more so: it had taken away what little purpose her life had with Booker's last breath.  
She couldn't let it happen. She _wouldn't_ let it happen. She was a quantum superposition now. She had all the time in all the worlds that could possibly exist- more than enough to ensure that Comstock never surfaced in any of them.

She clenched their hands into fists.  
"Then I'll deal with those Comstocks as well."  
Sans' pupils narrowed to mere pin-pricks. "what d'ya mean by that, kid?"  
"I'm not exactly limited by infinity any more, Sans. No matter how long it takes, I won't stop until the job is done."  
"hmm." Sans looked away thoughtfully. "so that's what your life's going to be from now on, then? killing every iteration of your father, until there's none left to find?"  
"If that's what it takes, then yes. I can't just ignore the problem. That's why places like Columbia exist- people prefer to deny there's anything wrong with the world if they can live in comfort."  
"i see your point," Sans says carefully, toying with the ketchup bottle on the table, "but kid, that's like saying your father was only a fault that needed to be fixed. if you try killing every comstock, there's gonna be a lotta bookers who are gonna die too."  
Elizabeth wished he wouldn't keep using the word "killing". "Booker already decided to accept an end rather than allow that man to keep on existing."  
"one booker did. i'm not sure all the rest are gonna take to kindly to you going on a murder spree so you can- prevent murder, right? i feel like i'm missing a few key pieces of the puzzle here."  
"If Booker's the man I think he was, he wouldn't let Comstock go on existing if he could prevent it!"  
"he's not the sort of man who'd let the slaughter of thousands just happen, is he?"  
"No!"  
"how about the slaughter of millions- no, wait- billions? because it sounds like that's what you're proposing. and yes, i know you're only after comstocks, but what about all the booker dewitts who are gonna get caught in the crossfire? what about all the annas? what about everyone else who was affected by booker's actions?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to object, and Sans' eye-lights winked into non-existence. "and even if you weren't- is this what you really want? to spend your entire existence killing, in the vague hope you could stop a killer? if so, welp- i'm not sure you're any better than your old man, kid."

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, not quite believing what he'd just said. She wasn't like Comstock. She _wasn't_. She wasn't doing this because of a fanatical belief in her own superiority, or because she believed she had a God-given right to do so. She was doing this because it was the right thing to do-  
\- but she couldn't quite ignore the fear boiling in her stomach, couldn't quite stamp down on the suspicion that the skeleton had a point. If her experiences since she left her tower had taught her anything, it was that no one was completely incorruptible- certainly not when they had as much power as she had. Even if she managed to eradicate the stains Comstock had left on the timelines without hurting anyone else, what if she decided that her job wasn't done? After all, it was only a small step from judging Comstock to judging anyone who dared raise their head above the masses in the time stream. She would start out trying to right the wrongs of each universe, but alone in her odd state of being with no others to guide her, her beliefs could all too easily become fanaticism, and if they did then there'd be no one who could stop her. If she really wanted to protect the world, Elizabeth thought, as realisation sank its claws into her soul, then perhaps the best thing she could do was leave it alone. She might have god-like powers, but she wasn't God, and she shouldn't act as if she had that authority.

She felt something wet on her cheek, and realised that she was crying.  
"hey, kid."  
She'd almost forgotten about Sans. She looked up, and saw him holding out a paper napkin. With a grateful nod, she took it.  
"Thanks."  
"don't mention it. look, i'm not saying you're evil. you're not. but you can't spend all your time trying to right wrongs that haven't even happened yet. believe me, i've tried."

Elizabeth looked up from scrubbing her face. "What happened?"  
Sans gave a sigh. "it's not as epic as your story, i'm afraid. not from my point of view, anyway. it's a bit convoluted, but i suppose it started when i had a bit of an accident in the workplace at my old job. unfortunately, my old job was at the labs in hotland, and it involved unravelling the fabric of the universe and knitting it into trendy new patterns. let's just say that, at the end of my time there, i was in a bit of a unique position when it came to alternate timelines. i could see 'em all- in fact, i had to see 'em all, all day, every day. every time someone took a step, i'd see them trip and fall as well. every time someone came into a room, i'd see them go and sit down, and turn and walk away. every time someone spoke, i'd see them keep quiet. and the timeline just kept splitting, until there were thousands and millions and billions of me, all aware of each other, and all going out of their minds."

He paused, staring off into the distance as though he could see that infinite audience of alternate Sanses even now.  
"it wasn't so bad, after a while. i learned to cope. but then an old friend started running experiments something called 'DETERMINATION'."  
Elizabeth's brow crumpled in bemusement. "Their drive to succeed?"  
Sans shook his head. "not 'determination', kid- 'DETERMINATION'. in capitals. it's basically the will to keep on going, no matter what- even if it means shredding the timeline to pieces."  
Sans gave a grim chuckle. "the fabric of reality had a few creases put in it, let me tell you. one day i'm dozing off at my sentry station, same as usual, and then the entire multiverse just implodes. every single timeline just slammed together into one, all ready for someone- _something_ \- to take it apart."

Sans took the ketchup off the table and upended the bottle into his hollow mouth, the level of thick red pulp decreasing rapidly as he gulped it down. Elizabeth looked on with morbid fascination- she'd seen Booker take to drink in a score of timelines, and Sans had the exact same steely concentration in his eyes as he chugged, despite his choice of beverage. While he finished off the bottle, Elizabeth surreptitiously checked her own knowledge of the timelines, and was relieved to find it complete. It wasn't as if the events Sans was describing would have affected her- by the sound of it, Sans' own slice of the multiverse was completely disconnected from her own save for the tiny crack he'd used as a shortcut- but the idea of the infinite stretch of possibilities that had only just opened up to her shutting her out was a terrifying one. Despite the fact she'd lived without it her entire life up until now, her omniscience was a part of her, and having it cut off would feel almost worse than losing a limb.

"How did you survive?" she asked incredulously.  
"kinda poorly, at first. i couldn't work out what had happened, which was something that never failed to get me mad, and what was worse was that i couldn't do anything about it." The sparks in Sans' sockets flickered and dimmed, like guttering candle flames. "but I got used to it. you can get used to anything, with time. too bad time wasn't really on my side, any more."

 **Author's note:**

 **This was only supposed to be one chapter, but my love of exposition is just too great to be contained within a oneshot. I just hope that the characters didn't get lost in my sea of headcanons.**


	2. Chapter 2

Sans started awake, head aching with a strange, twisting pain that felt like his brain was being pulled out through his ears- which was even more worrying than it would be for most monsters, since he had no ears or soft tissues of any type. In fact, he thought blearily, he was a bit of a _bone_ head, heh. Part of Sans wished Papyrus was here to hear that one, but then again, Papyrus would probably be able to tell his brother was in considerable pain if he was here, and start to worry. Sans hated seeing Papyrus worry: if something was able to penetrate his brother's near-invincible shield of optimism, it must be so bad it would have most people snivelling on the floor.

Ugh. Where was he, anyhow? Sans blinked away the last of the sleep from his sockets, and took in his surroundings. He seemed to be at his station/hotdog stand in Snowdin, but, much as he tried to remember how he'd gotten there, his memories seemed- blurry. Not absent- if he concentrated, he could remember the vague shape of events- but they were clouded and indistinct, as though they'd happened a few weeks ago.

Sans shook his skull vigorously, trying to clear away the fuzziness inside. Whatever. He'd distract himself by going to the door in the forest and telling some knock-knock jokes to his new friend; he'd gotten into the habit of writing down any he could think of in his personal shorthand when on duty in Waterfall and Hotland, and then reading them all off when he got back to Snowdin. He'd been worried that it would seem a bit impersonal and forced at first, but the monster behind the door never seemed to mind. Besides, having something to do while on duty was a good way of distracting himself from the horrifying gap where the entire multiverse had disappeared overnight. Maybe Papyrus was onto something about keeping busy at all times. Sans smiled to himself (not that an inattentive observer could tell, given that his face was forever fixed in a rigid grin), and-

-wait. No alternate universes? Anxiety gnawing at his ribs, Sans concentrated on the sixth sense he'd gained in what he'd come to call the Accident. Even when he wasn't paying attention, his ability normally filled his skull with a buzz of activity from alternate universes- sights, sounds, thoughts from an infinite number of other Sanses. However, even as he honed in, there was nothing but dead silence. Sans sucked in a breath, and reached out again, hoping desperately that he'd made a mistake- he didn't know what it would mean for the multiverse if all the other timelines just shut down overnight, but he guessed it wouldn't be anything good. Again, he felt nothing but an empty void.  
Sans breathed out slowly. He didn't really need to breathe, as such, being a skeleton, but it sometimes helped to calm him down. It wasn't really working this time.  
Okay. Okay, something was up. It might not be anything to worry about, but given his luck, it probably was, whether it was universes disintegrating or a nasty side effect of the Accident. He needed to find a solution. He needed to-

Sans started awake, head aching with a strange, twisting pain that felt like his brain was being pulled out through his ears- which was even more worrying than it would be for most monsters, since he had no ears or soft tissues of any type. In fact, he thought blearily, he was a bit of a _bone_ head- wait.

Sans blinked, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his skull. This situation- this awful pain, the pun he'd just made up- it seemed _familiar_. It was only a vague feeling, but he felt as if he'd been here before. Of course, moments of déjà vu like this could usually be attributed to having a running commentary on everything happening in parallel universes- while there were some that were radically different out there, most were practically identical in every respect, which meant that most of the time it felt like he was living life in an echoey cave, with actions and words being reflected back at him a million times over. It was a bit of a nuisance most of the time, but at least it was better than what had happened to Ga-

Sans started awake, head aching with a strange, twisting pain that felt like his brain was being pulled out through his ears- which was even more worrying than it would be for most monsters, since he- wait.

Sans blinked, pushing the throbbing agony in his skull aside. This situation- the pain he was in, the way he described it- it seemed oddly familiar. It didn't just feel vaguely reminiscent of something, either- he was sure he'd been here before-

Sans started awake, ears ringing and head aching with a strange, twisting pain-  
Ugh. Why did he feel so irritated? It wasn't annoyance at the headache- he felt like he'd just been interrupted by something-

Sans started awake, head aching-

Sans started awake-

Sans started-

Sans-

Sans-

Sans-

Sans started awake, and gave a furious snarl. Almost immediately, he winced at the pain throbbing through his skull. He scrubbed at his forehead with a hand, turning his anger over and over in his mind, unable to make head or tail of it. The pain was pretty bad, sure, but it wasn't really like him to start raging at injuries. That was more Papyrus' thing. Though this _was_ pretty bad, to be fair. It felt like his brain was being pulled out through his ears, and he didn't even have ears… or any… soft… tissues…

Wait a minute. That last sentence he'd thought- had he heard it somewhere before? He could of sworn he had, but he couldn't remember where. In fact, all his memories seemed kind of distant and far off- he couldn't remember what day it was, or even what had happened this morning. What was up?

Sans groaned, and grabbed the ketchup from below his seat. He'd been trying to stop himself drinking the stuff he kept in the station- it was for the customers, after all, not for personal consumption- but he felt too rattled to care by this point, so he just flipped up the cap and chugged. Once he'd downed a third of the bottle, he was feeling well enough to appreciate the inadvertent pun in his last thought ("Why was the skeleton impatient? Because he was feeling _rattled_ "), and reached for his notebook to scribble it down. He'd taken to jotting down any jokes that he remembered when-  
\- his inventory was devoid of anything papery except for a battered sci-fi novel. As his bony fingers clutched at empty air, Sans tried to wrap his mind around the fact that his memories seemed to be only vaguely connected to past events. Why did he think he had a notebook? Why did he remember the multiverse collapsing? _What was going on?_

Sans took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He had to focus. If he panicked, then he'd be completely lost, and then he'd never find out what was going on. Start with the basics. Could he still sense the other universes?  
He flexed his sixth sense tentatively, and found nothing but cold emptiness where there had once been infinite possibilities. What was almost more frightening was that he didn't seem to care- or rather, he did care, but the horror and fear he would have expected just weren't there. Instead, he felt… resigned. It was almost like he'd already known, and was just being reminded of it instead of finding out for the first time.  
Hmm. Everything felt like he was just being reminded of it this morning. If it _was_ morning, that is; he couldn't remember anything that had happened before he fell asleep, and there was no way of telling the time down here, where the only light available was the crackling artificial stuff produced by the Core. Maybe Papyrus would know; he usually stopped by at the station when on his own rounds, so Sans could probably get the time from him then. For now, there seemed to be nothing to do but wait.

"So- what did you end up doing?" Elizabeth asked, toying with the cup of coffee she'd ordered so they'd have the excuse to stay in Grillby's a while longer. She'd yet to take a sip: a side effect of heating food with magic was that, fresh out of the kitchen, it was hot enough to burn a blister on your tongue, and remained like that for a good few minutes.  
Sans gave a shrug. "carrying on with life, for the next few weeks. it wasn't too bad, for the most part- though from time to time things were a little weird. i'd do things like stick out a hand just in time to catch a falling cup, or start dodging a snowball before i actually saw it. and all the time, i kept feeling like i'd done everything before. it spooked me enough that i started trying to recreate some of the experiments in the labs- nothing that would mess with the time stream, just stuff that would monitor it."  
"What did you find?"  
"that was the strange thing. nothing i tried worked properly. my stuff just kept resetting and glitching out. at first, i didn't think much of it- the set-up was a rush job, i couldn't expect things to work perfectly- but even after i'd checked everything over and made sure nothing was broken, they just didn't work. eventually, i got so mad i just threw the towel in and left everything in my workshop."  
Sans took another gulp of ketchup from the new bottle he'd asked for, ignoring the severe look Grillby was giving him over the top of his pince-nez. "so, things weren't perfect, but they weren't too bad. And then… pap started talking about a yellow flower."

"HE'S MY NEW COOL FRIEND, SANS!"  
"really, bro?" Sans picked up another forkful of spaghetti, and wondered how he was going to get rid of it without Papyrus noticing. Usually they'd eat dinner separately, with Sans heading out to Grillby's and Papyrus staying in to try out some of the pasta recipes he'd learnt from his new friend in the Royal Guard (and darn it, you still can't believe he had the persistence to stand outside her house all night), but today Papyrus had put his foot down and proclaimed that his brother was going to eat a meal that didn't consist entirely of grease tonight. A part of Sans thought darkly that ten platefuls of grease couldn't do as much damage to your insides as just one of Papyrus' dishes could, but he couldn't bring himself to say it to that hopeful grin. "i would have thought he'd have been too much of a _pansy_ for you two to get along."  
" _SANS!"  
_ "all right, all right. he sounds cool. so, he ate a plate of this?" Sans gestured to the pasta with his fork.  
"HE DID INDEED! WITH SUCH A PASSIONATE EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE!"  
Sans wondered whether Papyrus could tell the difference between passion and extreme disgust, and decided that, when it came to his cookery, he probably couldn't- possibly as a defence mechanism. Then he actually considered what Papyrus had said.  
"wait. the flower had a face?" He'd assumed someone was playing a prank on his brother using an echo flower.  
"OF COURSE! HOW DID YOU THINK HE COULD TALK WITHOUT A MOUTH?"  
"i dunno. I didn't think he'd have the _stamen_ -a to speak with you for long." A bit forced, but worth it for Papyrus' expression.  
"WILL YOU STOP IT WITH THE PUNS?"  
"aw, come on, you love 'em really," Papyrus shook his skull defiantly, but Sans could tell the smile on his face wasn't entirely the result of his skeletal facial structure. Still, he didn't push him: his puns were never quite as funny if his brother's howl of rage didn't follow them. "so, about this flower-"  
"FLOWEY!"  
"eh?"  
"HIS NAME IS FLOWEY!"  
"huh." Welp. Sans hadn't heard a name so wholly uninspired since he heard what the capital of the Underground was called. "is he related to asgore?"  
"OF COURSE NOT, SANS! HOW WOULD THAT EVEN WORK?" Papyrus let out a chuckle at his brother's foolishness, a "NYEHEHEH!" so high and piercing that it rattled the plates on the table. "NO, FLOWEY HAS VERY FEW FRIENDS! BUT DON'T WORRY! I TOLD HIM THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS-" Papyrus leapt up in order to pose dramatically, his scarf fluttering behind him despite the complete absence of wind, "-WOULD ALWAYS BE THERE FOR HIM!"  
Sans smiled at his brother. Monsters were generally disposed to be friendly to anyone they happened across, but Papyrus was something else when it came to sheer compassion. "welp, good for you, pap. i'm sure he'll be happier with you around."  
"MOST DEFINITELY! WHAT MONSTER WOULDN'T BE?"

Papyrus sat back down with a thump, almost knocking over a glass- Sans promptly caught it, realising with a sigh that his hand was already outstretched. He wished yet again that he knew what the heck was happening, but begrudgingly admitted to himself that he probably never would. Whatever this strange new ability he had was, he was stuck with it, in all its unexplainable glory. Still, he thought, as he listened to Papyrus congratulate him on his quick reflexes, just now, he felt like he could cope.

"Did you believe him? About the flower, I mean."  
"why wouldn't i? he's my brother."  
"Well," Elizabeth paused awkwardly, unsure how to phrase her question. "A talking, anthropomorphised flower- it seems a little unlikely."  
Sans snickered. "heh. a talking flower isn't that strange in the underground, kid-grillby's gets weirder patrons than that every day, naming no names, and no one minds 'em."  
Looking around, Elizabeth was forced to concede Sans had a point. From her perch at the counter, she could spot a humanoid fish, a horse wearing sunglasses, and a figure whose entire head seemed to consist of nothing but a gaping maw. In fact, most of the customers seemed to come in a variety of bizarre shapes and sizes- no two of them looked alike. Yet despite the range of threatening fangs and sharp claws, the bar was friendlier than any of the places she and Booker had visited in Columbia, where the people hid their bigotry behind polite smiles and natty outfits.

"Alright," she said, coming back to the topic in hand. "Did you ever see the flower?"  
"not for a while," Sans said, the warmth in his sockets fading away. "heard a lot about him, though. everybody had a good word to say about the thing- how he'd helped them with this, or talked through that with them, or something else. at first, it was all just rumours, something that had happened to my friend's aunt's husband's brother, but then the king and queen got back together, and they said that this flower was the one who made it all happen. heh, he had the entire underground singing his praises. we were going through a bit of a dark time just then- we needed one more human soul to break the barrier, but it had been an age since anyone had fallen down here. people were starting to wonder whether they'd ever be able to get out of here. it was around that time the whole "angel of death" interpretation of the delta rune started showing up."  
Sans noticed the confused look on Elizabeth's face, and reached towards the pile of napkins that lay on the counter. "look," he said, sketching three triangles, a circle, and a pair of lopsided wings. "this is the delta rune- bit rough, but it'll do. it's the emblem of the royal family down here, and it's supposed to represent the way we're finally going to leave this place. the three triangles symbolise the mountain we're stuck under, and the circle- well, no one's really sure."  
"You have a symbol to represent your Royal Family and no one has any idea what most of it means?"  
"pretty much, though as i said, it's more about the story than the dreemurrs. we've been stuck under here for a long time, and no one can remember that far back- people see it as is a symbol of hope."  
Elizabeth winced; she hadn't meant to be insensitive. "Sorry. I didn't realise..."  
"it's fine, kid. i mean, i wouldn't start making fun of other people for believing in it, but by now we've most of us realised the irony of pinning all our hopes and dreams on a picture that no one can remember the meaning of. that brings me back to my point pretty neatly, actually- people think the circle's an angel that will grant us our freedom."  
Elizabeth bit her lip; it didn't seem to matter what universe she was in, there was always a prophecy. "An angel?"  
"so they say. not just any angel, mind you- the story goes that the angel is 'the one that has seen the surface', who'll come back down and free us all."  
"Have you met anyone that fit the bill?"  
"well, at one point some people thought the king and queen's adopted kid might be the one, but they fell down a long time ago, so it's not gonna be them. then, when people started to lose hope, people started coming up with more morbid theories- that it was an angel of death, come to 'free' us from the torment of existence."

Elizabeth whistled between her teeth. "A 'symbol of hope'?"  
"yeah, people weren't really in the mood for optimism- or they weren't, until this cheery yellow flower started showing up everywhere. now, people were talking about how staying underground might not be so bad, not if we had each other. flowey was very big on friendship, so i heard." Sans' voice was bitter, each syllable sharp as acid. "papyrus even started a fan club for him."  
"From your tone, I'm guessing something went wrong."  
Sans gave a brief nod. "after a while- not quite sure how long, i've never been that good at keeping track of time since the Accident, but a long while- the royal guard members started to talk about monsters going missing. there wasn't a whole lot of them disappearing, but the underground isn't a big place, so it scared people a lot more than it might in your world. Undyne- my brother's friend and captain of the guard, remember," he explained when Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look, "- she was going out of her mind. Undyne takes her job kinda seriously- anyone looking to hurt us would have to go through her first, and that takes some doing. but she can't stop what she can't see, and that's what was happening here. people were just disappearing, and she couldn't find any way to stop it."

"Couldn't she have used cameras?"  
Sans shot her a puzzled look of his own. "you know about security cameras, kid? actually, what am i saying? you know everything that has happened and could ever happen, of course you know. Anyway, we did try that. we had a whole lot of 'em around the place already, so we could find any humans that fell down here, but they kept getting broken."  
"By someone?"  
"that's what we were starting to think. it was weird, though. no one could find any residual magic or anything on the wrecks whatever-it-was left behind- well, except from some vine fragments, that is."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath. " _Flowey_ was the one doing this?"

Sans took another gulp of ketchup. "you're leaping to conclusions kinda fast, aren't ya, kid? or at least-" he shoved the bottle onto the counter with a hint of unnecessary force, "- that's what they told me. i guess i was being kinda hasty- the guy had never done anything but help other people- but it seemed to me that as soon as he unearthed himself, everything had started spiralling outta control, and i don't believe in coincidences. besides, i'd always been a bit wary of the monster. I didn't know why, but every time i heard something about him, i just felt- uneasy. i suppose it was easier for me to blame him than it was for everyone else, since i'd never met him. no one wants to think that the friendly kid who helped them out with a crossword could be making monsters disappear."  
"'Kid'?"  
"welp, that's what he sounded like to most people. there's no real way to tell the age of a monster whose body is made up of plant matter, at least not until it starts decaying, but his voice was kinda shrill."  
"Why would a child do something like… that?"  
"don't ask me, kiddo. kids don't really have a moral compass early on in life, but he didn't sound that young. more- 'tween age, i think it's called?"  
Elizabeth didn't answer, thinking instead of what Sans had just said. "'He didn't sound that young'- did you actually meet him, then?"  
Sans gave a chuckle, though it sounded a little forced. "no getting anything past you, i can see. yeah, i met him eventually. i was quite a bit younger in those days, and i had a bit of a chip on my scapula about not being listened to. when it seemed like undyne wasn't taking my theory about the underground's saviour seriously, i got mad. decided i'd go and investigate myself. so, i headed to the last place the cameras had broken down in, a place in waterfall, and started poking around. i hadn't found much, when-"

"Howdy!"

Sans looked up from the splintered remains of the camera he'd been scrutinising, before realising the voice was coming from the ground where the stepladder he was precariously balanced on rested. Looking down, he saw a splash of goldenrod in a sea of deep blue, and felt a sneaking suspicion creep along his spine.  
"you're flowey, aren't you?" he said, retreating as swiftly as he dared back to ground level. The flower gave a cackling laugh, a shrill, nasal sound that reverberated around the cave, so it sounded as if a million flowers were laughing along.  
"That's me! And you-" the flower narrowed its eyes, though its beaming smile remained as wide as ever, "- you're Sans the skeleton, aren't cha?"  
"that's right. how could you tell?" Sans grinned, though the idea of the flower hearing about him behind his back gave the smile a wary sharpness. "does pap talk about me behind my back?"  
"He sure does! I haven't had a single conversation with him where he didn't at least mention his _best brother_!" There was a flicker of something in Flowey's eyes as he said the last two words- a flash of _anger-resentment-hunger_ that made Sans take an involuntary step backwards- but in another split-second it had vanished, replaced by the cheery expression that had graced his features since the conversation started. "He's so proud of having you as his family."  
"that's nice to hear," Sans volunteered carefully, after a few moments of silence. "kinda wonder why you haven't looked me up before now, seeing as you've heard so much about me,"  
"Oh, I _did_ ," said Flowey, his mouth still fixed in the same merry grin. However, there was an air to his expression that hinted at something else besides the rigid jollity he had demonstrated up until now- some hard, chilly edge to his smile that would have made Sans' flesh creep, if he'd had flesh. "I looked you up several times. I gave up trying a few resets ago, though. You never would trust me like everyone else does, no matter what I said. I suppose it's 'cause you remember, isn't it?"

"what're you saying, kid?" asked Sans, a tight, cold feeling beginning to sink its frozen fangs into his bones.  
"You haven't guessed, yet?" Flowey gave another laugh, the chorus of echoes chortling along with him as though Sans' slowness is the funniest thing they've ever seen. "Wow. I thought you were supposed to be an expert on this whole time thing. Aren't you supposed to know how this works?"  
"you're the one messing with the timeline, aren't you?" said Sans heavily, well and truly in the grip of freezing cold suspicion now.  
The flower stretched its grin even wider, the corners of its mouth spilling right off the edges of its face and leaking down the sides. "Bingo!" it cried, its voice seemingly unaffected by the horribly distended nature of its mouth. "He may take a while, but he gets there in the end."  
"how're you doing this?" Sans asked incredulously.  
"Good question. _Good_ question. Too bad I'm bored of it by now. You've asked me it so many times, y'know? You'd have thought you'd at least have been a _bit_ more exciting than the rest, what with your special talent. But no-" The flower rolled its eyes in its melting face, the corners of the mouth drooping into a sneer, "You're just as boring and predictable as all the rest, when you get down to it. But I can still have fun with that. There's still some things I haven't done, and boy-" another staccato laugh, another hooting, howling accompaniment, "- will it be interesting to watch!"  
Sans started towards the creature, suddenly desperate to know exactly what it was planning, but it had disappeared into the damp earth, leaving him alone with the chittering, laughing echoes. Sans watched the spot where the thing had vanished numbly, wondering what it meant by that last sentence. It was only when he looked up and saw the stepladder that he remembered what exactly he was investigating in the first place, and the conclusion all but drew itself for him in scarlet marker. Sans stood up suddenly, and started to run towards the harbour where the River Person kept their boat. He had to get home.

 **I'm stranded on Backstory Island. Please send help.**

 **For anyone who might be wondering where Delta's Mind is- it's coming. Very slowly, but it's still ongoing. Things have been pretty insane on the work front recently, and since this fic doesn't require as much locating suitable "Let's Play"s and backtracking and rewriting because I got carried away in a battle scene and ended up somewhere completely implausible, it's easier to update. That said, Delta's Mind is still being written, and I'm not giving it up any time soon.**

 **Finally, thank you to those of you who reviewed this story. Your feedback is what keeps me writing, mostly, so thank you so much for your comments. To the guest who suggested writing more fics in this vein: wait and see...**


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